


The Value of a Gift

by Neanmorra



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Past!Erwin, Past!Levi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 22:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2557304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neanmorra/pseuds/Neanmorra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy is beaten up by the military police.<br/>A young recruit walks through the streets of the Underground City and hears a child cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Value of a Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clarify how old Levi and Erwin are in this fic: Levi is 9 and Erwin is 15.  
> Alright, that's all, enjoy! =)
> 
> I also might write a sequel where some years later Erwin is a commander and wants to recruit a certain rebel from the Underground City. Let me know if you want to read that.

They boy sprinted through the dark alleys, clutching the piece of bread he had managed to steal from some rich authority. Behind him the curses and shouts grew louder and to the boy's horror they seemed closer. Frantically he stuffed the bread into his pocket and continued his escape. He cursed under his breath, scolding himself for stealing from a soldier but it was the only way to gain access to halfway decent food. Plus, he never could have imagined stealing from a person who, like him, suffered from poverty. Gritting his teeth, the boy leaped up a wooden crate and with another step he had climbed the next one. Before he was able to set foot onto the roof of a flat house however, a hand clasped his ankle and yanked. With a surprised and somewhat frightened yelp, the boy lost his equilibrium and crashed to the cobble stone street, quickly rolling on his side and scrambling on his feet again. He should not have bothered. A boot collided with his leg and sent him to the filthy floor again where he received another kick in the gut.  
“Gotcha.”  
The boy looked up and his gaze met with four figures clad in the uniform of the military police, smirks on their faces. He slowly got to his trembling feet again, taking a step back, never breaking eye contact. A scowl that was too earnest, too serious for his young age appeared on his brow and he adopted his fight position what engendered unbelieving laughs from the soldiers.  
“What? You gonna fight us, you brat?”, one of the men echoed and a mocking smile played around the corners of his mouth. “Let's show this piece of shit what he gets for stealing.”  
The men closed in on the boy who had beads of sweat pouring down his forehead as he took another step back. He managed to avoid the first blow aimed at his head what evoked a surprised grunt from the assailant but he had no chance of dodging the kick that followed. The heeled boot crashed into his chest and the boy was sent sprawling. A pair of strong yet soft hands grabbed the collar of his washed out jacket and hauled him up painfully. He could smell the reek of alcohol enveloping the soldier before he was tossed aside like a rag doll and crashed into the brick wall of a house. From his position on the floor he was able to see people passing on the main road, deliberately turning a blind eye the scene unfolding in front of them. Nobody wanted to attract the attention of the military police. Moaning, the boy slowly came to his feet again, ignoring the pain that radiated from his shoulder and lower back, as well as his hip and took up his fighting position once more.  
“You still haven't got enough?”, one of the soldiers teased and with a indifferent shrug he swung his fist. The boy's attempt at blocking the punch aimed at his nose proved too weak and the fist collided with his cheek, snapping his head around. Blood shot from his nose down his neck and under his shirt.  
“You fucking cowards!”, the boy burst out and with a desperate cry he flung himself at the nearest man, punching him in the belly. The soldier let out an irate grunt and grabbed the boy by his jacket. Keeping him at distance like that with one hand, he used the other to punch him in the face before throwing him at a wall. The boy remained face-down and motionless.  
“Stupid brat”, one of the men mumbled and knelt down next to the unconscious boy to retrieve the stolen slice of bread. Then the four men headed back to the tavern to enjoy the sweetness of more wine, laughing and joking about the idiot boy they left to rot in the alley.

At the same time a young man walked or rather sauntered through the filthy streets of the Underground City. The blond hair cut and combed back in an old-fashioned military style, he radiated aplomb and beneath an imposing pair of eyebrows blue eyes gazed from left to right as he strode through the sordid and dimly lit streets.  
Erwin Smith, newly recruited into the Scouting Legion a few hours ago. He had never had the possibility to come to the Capital inside Wall Sina before but now that he had been accepted inside he was appalled by the lifestyle of the wealthy. It made him sick to learn that thousands of soldiers and civilians even – human beings – had given up their lives to protect the citizens of the inner Wall. Food that was thrown away, cake and wine that was preferred over water and and simple meals while their people were starving. Thus, after the ceremony Erwin had decided to visit the legendary Underground City. He wanted to take a look at the situation himself. Was it really as bad as everyone was gossiping about? And if so, why wasn't the government interfering or sending aid?  
The people Erwin encountered, retreated into dark corners and gave way before him and it was not too long before he realized that it was the uniform he wore that scared them off. Frowning, he continued his walk and with every step he took he became more aware that this city was a reversed reflection of the prosperous town above.

A soft sobbing interrupted Erwin's thoughts and the young man halted. Listening carefully, he was able to trace the miserable sounds back to a dark and narrow alley. Slowly Erwin approached the trembling figure on the floor until he could make out more details and to his surprise the curled up form turned out to be a boy of about ten years. When he was two feet away, the lad jumped up and spun round to face him.  
“Have you come back to kill me after all? Hell, I won't make it easy on you!”  
Surprised, Erwin stepped back, holding up his hands, palms facing out to show the boy he had no ill intentions. He registered the determined expression and the deep scowl on the young face, as well as the blood that was smeared all over it. The boy positioned himself to fight Erwin who noted that he was leaning slightly to the right – he was injured. His black hair was unruly and strands of it stuck to his sweaty forehead.  
“I don't want to hurt you, I –“, Erwin began but the lad didn't let him finish.  
“Sure! Your friends sure didn't want to either, am I right?”, he scoffed.  
'Friends?', Erwin asked himself confused but remembered the citizens who had been backing away from him. The uniform. Was the military police terrorizing these people? And did the military police beat this boy to pulp?!  
“I am not military police. I mean to fight, not sit on my rear enjoying a simple life. That is why I joined the Survey Corps.”  
Something in the boy's look changed. “Prove it.”  
Erwin turned around so the lad could see the big emblem of the wings of freedom on his back, which exposed like this was another way of showing the boy he was not here to pose a threat. When he turned back around he half expected the alley to be empty but the boy hadn't run. He had sunk to his knees, holding his side and breathing heavily. In an instant Erwin was at his side.  
“Are you okay?”  
“I am fine!”, the lad snapped, swatting the aiding hand away, Erwin had stretched out to him. “Just … just leave me alone.”  
“You are injured – “  
“I don't need your help.”  
Erwin considered the thought of leaving an injured boy alone repulsive but it was also clear to him that eventually, he would have no other choice. A street-boy from the Underground City would never be tolerated topside, not even when it was him accompanying him. However, he could not bring himself to leave just like that. Reaching into his pocket he produced the rest of his cheese sandwich he had planned on eating later and handed it to the lad. “Here, you need it more than I do.”  
Disbelieving, the boy took the offering from this peculiar stranger and felt his heart ache when he saw the warm smile Erwin gave him. “Why … I mean … “, the boy stuttered, eyes fixed on the food once more.  
“I wish there was more I could do. Take this as well.” Erwin pulled a white cloth from his pocket and pressed it into the boy's open hand. “So you can clean yourself up a bit.” Then he stood up and turned to leave.  
“Who are you?”  
“My name is Erwin.” Without another word, he walked down the alley and disappeared around the corner.  
The boy stared at the items in his lap before he smiled and a single tear rolled down his right cheek. “Arigato ... Erwin.”


End file.
